Just Plain and Simple Tailors
by DrinkReplenishment
Summary: Garak is bored while the crew is away on a mission. A series of new arrivals makes his day more interesting than he could have imagined.
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note: My first story! This will hopefully be the start of a series of stories in a shared universe. For those looking for the crossover bits, they will show up in later chapters. It will be worth the wait though!**

Stardate 49263.5

The Promenade was still not the bustling hub of activity that it was before the Klingon attack. Some businesses and families had left as soon as they felt safe enough to get on an outgoing transport. As much as Garak enjoyed his solitude on occasion, he was starting to get anxious waiting in his tailor shop to be of some use to just about anyone.

After spending years on a station where danger and excitement were everyday occurrences, boredom was not something he was terribly used to. With many lines of communication with Cardassia cut and with fewer visitors to the station to buy things, he was becoming increasingly reliant on the command crew for both information and entertainment. Not that he would admit either to them. A good portion of any well known spies' power comes from the mystique that they know more than you do and are capable of just more than you would expect.

Most of his usual companions were in the Defiant, off on a mission to the Gamma Quadrant to deal with a trade dispute with the Karemma. It always seemed like a terribly foolish policy to have the entirety of the command staff for such an important station shoved into a single ship and thrust right into the heart of every situation that pops up in this sector. The only time that would happen at a Cardassian military outpost was when the Obsidian Order decided that it was time for an accident to occur.

Starfleet is far too soft. There is no fear of betrayal from your subordinates, little concern that your every mistake will be attached to your family's' name for years to come, and almost no incentive to learn the valuable skill of hiding secrets from those you keep near you. The Dominion threat may good for them. The paranoia brought on by a group of shapeshifters leading a military force so great that it threatens half the galaxy may bring some positive, if rough, changes to the "utopian" Federation. Maybe the Cardassians can teach the Federation about real security, provided the regime can withstand the Klingon's aggression.

Garak got so caught up in this train of thought, he almost missed a stitch in the pair of pants he was planning on displaying in the shop window. With the decrease in regular traders on the station, he wanted to try to cater to the one group of people he could always rely on being on Deep Space Nine: the Bajorans. Despite the history of his people with the Bajorans, he still managed to be good enough with a needle and thread to attract business from the locals. He certainly didn't begrudge them their general dislike of him. What the Cardassians did to Bajor was quite scarring and besides, he himself was not the plain, simple tailor he made himself out to be.

He just wished that the number of people he could "trust" enough to talk to wasn't so limited. He couldn't exactly chat with most Bajorans unless they were being fitted for a new suit. Doctor Bashir was an enjoyable person to have a discussion with and seemed more clever than he let on, but he was frequently working on the many crises that appeared in this place.

On thinking about the doctor, he was reminded that he would have a visitor in the next day or so. Doctor Bashir asked Garak if he could host a friend of his that was traveling to the station to work on a large commision for an upcoming Bajoran religious ceremony and needed a proper workplace. Garak wasn't thrilled about the idea of sharing his workspace but there was never a bad time to be owed favors.

Finishing up the display pants, he was just about to get them ready to be hung up when a rather foul smell wafted over him as someone entered his shop. Standing in his doorway was a ragged, yet still quite intimidating, Nausicaan that looked like he had just walked away from a battle with a Gorn. This day might be more interesting than he had assumed. Setting down the pants on his work table, he approached the man he could only hope was a customer.

"Hello, how may I help you good sir?"

The Nausicaan walked in and pulled off the massive heavy jacket he was wearing and throws it down on top of the display pants. The weapon damage on it looked so recent, Garak thought he could still see smoke coming off the holes in it. Looking up at its' owner, Garak couldn't help but notice quickly that the stitching on a portion of his protective armor was changed to create an amateurish secret pocket. The Nausicaan gestured, with his obviously injured arm, to the pockmarked jacket before grunting, "Fix it, I will be back in a day." With that the Nausicaan turned and headed out the door.

While the abruptness of the exit normally would have given Garak a moment of pause, the jacket in front of him absorbed all of his attention. The jacket showed signs of being shot with a Klingon disruptor. Since Nausicaans tended to join criminal organizations this shouldn't have been too interesting but Garak was starved for information and needed something to analyze and study, even if just to keep his skills sharp. As he rotated the jacket to get a better look, he noticed that some of the other weapon patterns didn't match Klingon weapons. In fact, they looked Cardassian and seemed almost as recent as the disruptor marks. This man had likely been near the front lines in the Klingon's assault on Cardassian space!

The mental stimulation granted to Garak just by looking at this jacket was freeing. He looked forward to hypothesizing where the Nausicaan traveled and why. The small amount of evidence made it even more exciting. Supposition and instinct could fill in the gaps that logic could not. It didn't matter that he was over analyzing something so simple, he had work to do with both his hands and his mind and he couldn't be happier.

"This might not be such a dreary day after all..."


	2. Chapter 2

Garak spent the next half hour picking the right fabric and thread to fix up the shredded jacket. While he worked with what was left of the hefty garment he kept thinking up scenarios that would have led the owner through this particular set of circumstances.

The Nausicaan had certainly been near the Cardassian/Klingon border within the last few days. Could he have simply gotten mixed up in the fighting while trading or traveling? Doubtful. Nausicaans may do smuggling or mercenary work at times but that wouldn't have led both sides to shoot at him. The jacket appears to be armored with a rather impressive and durable lining. For the shots to do this much damage to it, the Nausicaan must have waded right through the middle of an intense firefight.

As his brain tossed the possible pasts of his latest customer, another visitor stepped in. Garak was so wrapped up in his train of thought that he almost didn't notice his new guest. Looking up from the jacket to what looked to be a Human male, he put on a smile and greeted him.

"Hello good sir, what can I do for y..." was all he could get out before the man grabbed Garak's throat and pressed him to the wall.

"A Nausicaan visited here, where is he? Don't try to lie to me Cardassian, I see his clothing there and he was spotted stumbling in here as soon as he got off his ship. Tell me!"

With that last exclamation, the man shoved Garak into the wall again as if to emphasize his need for the information. Had his throat not been so constricted he likely would have gotten in further danger with the witty reply he tried to gurgle out.

Realizing that he couldn't get the Nausicaan's position from a man without a trachea, the angry stranger relaxed his grip enough to allow Garak to breathe again. The small lull that followed gave Garak just enough time to analyze his attacker.

He was certainly too strong for a Human and too emotional for a Vulcan. A Romulan would be far more subtle. The hands were too warm, even for someone in such a furious state. Perhaps...

Garak's eyes suddenly glowed with understanding and managed to smile despite the pain.

"I knew that your people had started to rediscover a judicial system recently but I had no idea your espionage services were starting to function again. It's just such a _dishonorable_ practice."

The stranger's eyes widened and his grip relented. Garak slumped a bit as he tried to regain his composure and his visitor seemed to allow it.

"Your reputation is well earned Cardassian. I would not have come to you if the damn Ferengi hadn't disappeared, but you are what I have to work with. This matter doesn't need to concern you any further as long as you tell me what I want to know. That Nausicaan could be hiding the whereabouts of Dominion spies so it is in the best interests for everyone in this Quadrant that I recover it."

Another brief pause and Garak decided it was time to make the rare leap of telling the truth.

"I'm afraid that your friend simply dropped off his jacket and moved on. I didn't spend any more time with him then that."

The stranger seemed to understand that he wouldn't be getting more information from Garak and walked up to the jacket. After patting it a couple of times he swiftly pulled out a knife and tore at a few places on the jacket.

Checking the new holes for hidden items, he put away his knife and said, "I will be on the station until I get what I came for. I expect you to have more information the next time I find you."

The stranger tossed the jacket to Garak and stormed out. Garak wasted no time in picking up the items that had been knocked over by the brief altercation. Sparing a glance at the jacket occasionally, he realized that his tailoring work had become slightly more complicated than he anticipated. What weighed on him more than the jacket though, was the new data that the stranger's appearance added to the mystery of the Nausicaan. With the stranger now in the mix, what was a simple thought exercise had become far more important.

The sound of more footsteps at his door made him wince. Why couldn't there be a threshold on interesting things occurring? Perhaps it was just a customer. Some mindless needlework would allow him time to reflect on the day's events and put some of the pieces together.

As long as it wasn't another Klingon...


	3. Chapter 3

As the kind of man who constantly expects the worst out of the universe, Garak was certain that the universe could provide an infinite number of distractions to keep him from his seemingly important discovery. Turning toward the entrance to his store to greet his newest visitor he was not disappointed.

The creature entering his shop was a snowy white, four legged animal he recognized from one of those "cowboy" holoprograms that Dr. Bashir dragged him into on occasion. It looked similar to a horse but smaller and with larger, more intelligent, eyes. A white horn sat on its' forehead framed, rather elegantly, by a coiffed purple mane. As confused as he was, he nearly missed what the creature's lyrical voice was telling him.

"I am Rarity of Ponyville. Are you Mr. Garak?"

So far a pleasant change from Klingons and Nausicaans, Garak thought.

"Yes my dear. I am Garak, proprietor of this store, at your service."

"Fabulous! After spending days on that cramped transport, I'm glad I have a place to put my bags down."

"Your bags?"

As he asked, Rarity's horn glowed with a strange blue light and suddenly the entrance to the shop was swarmed with travel luggage, bundles of fabric, and Garak thought he saw a small white feline somewhere in the chaos.

After noticing the high quantity of sewing supplies flying in at a high speed, Garak had an impression of who his newest guest was.

"I take it you are the friend Dr. Bashir told me to expect. I'm sorry I am not more prepared, I was told you would be arriving at a later time."

Rarity looked blank for a moment and then quickly blushed.

"Oh my, I may have made a teeny tiny mistake when I was talking to Julian. I had forgotten that all of our calendars were knocked a few days off of galactic standard after that ordeal with that mismatched disaster of a Draconequus. Would there be a problem with me setting up a bit early?"

As busy as Garak was, he couldn't help but crave more information about where this mysterious mare came from. When it came to new information, he had an unhealthy addiction.

"My dear Rarity, of course you can stay. With the good doctor away for a while, I have been somewhat lacking in good conversation. You mentioned a Draconequus, I'm not familiar with that species. Is it new?"

"Oh no, it's ancient. The one we dealt with had almost god-like powers and absolutely loved chaos. He could snap his fingers and literally turn our town upside down."

"Sounds like someone we have seen around here before. Quite the trickster" Garak interjected.

"Ours fancied himself one. He turned our roads to soap, made the clouds turn to candy, and there was an _incident_ with a boulder named Tom. With the help of some of my friends, we gathered some gorgeous magic jewelry and used our friendship to turn him to stone."

Garak tried to find a proper response to what he had just heard. The dismissive tone in which she relayed all of this gave the impression that this was just another day for her. He would normally just discard everything she had said as a fanciful tale but he didn't detect a hint of deception in her and she obviously had come from a world far different than any he had ever been to.

Realizing that he had to get back on track to solve his original puzzle, Garak collected himself.

"After you settle in Miss Rarity, I would love to hear more about where you come from. It sounds like a most...intriguing place to live."

"Oh yes, Equestria is a wonderful and beautiful place. I truly have yet to find another planet that is half as lovely but Bajor certainly comes close. Is your homeworld like Bajor?"

"I'm afraid Cardassia and its' people share a rather draconian sensibility when it comes to aesthetics. I find it to be one of the harder aspects of my upbringing to overcome in my line of work."

Rarity's horn glowed again, and one of the display suits lay itself neatly on a table nearby. She gave it a quick appraisal.

"While I must say that your designs aren't what_ I_ would consider chic, your stitchwork is absolutely divine. Mine never comes out anywhere near that fine. I would be happy to give you a few fashion pointers in exchange for tips on how you manage this kind of delicate work."

"I would be delighted to take you up on that, but I am afraid that it will have to be another day. I have a job that must be completed tonight that I really must get started on."

"Excellent! I must be off myself. I need to go spruce up the quarters I have been assigned. I simply cannot sleep in something so dreary. Goodnight Mister Garak. Opalescence, time to leave!"

As Rarity turned to leave, the cat Garak thought he saw earlier appeared and trotted after her. As interesting as his guest was, the mystery attached to the owner of the jacket had a much higher priority. If his theory was right, he may be able to do something to help his people but he wouldn't know what that something was until he unraveled this a bit further.

Garak turned back to the Nausicaan jacket. The material was thick enough to be a layer of armor on its own. It would take all night to be able to weave something together that could match it. Oh well, at least his hands would be as busy as his head.

* * *

Far away from Deep Space Nine

Defeated. Beaten. Scattered. She once led an army. She had nearly conquered a kingdom. Now she had barely scraped together what was left of her followers. Most had simply gone off on their own, no longer confident in their leader. While she knew that she had to rise again, she had lost the fire that had pressed her to make it as far as she did.

Sitting in the mostly dark cavern that was now her lair, she hoped something would inspire her to once again pull her people together. Out of the corner of her eye something slithered closer. Turning to squash the creature that dared to sully her lair, she prepared to step on it only to have it split and coalesce behind her. As she turned, it seemed to grow larger and took on a form that, aside from a liquid sheen, nearly mirrored her own.. A wicked smile grew on the doppelganger's lips as it spoke to her.

"Every Queen needs a King..."


	4. Chapter 4

Garak normally avoided taking his work home with him but the jacket was still going to take some time and it was already getting late. Oh well, he thought, there are some benefits to working at home. Garak had spent years on this station and had secured the area around his quarters quite thoroughly. He could also access more of the stations computers to gather the information he needed. If Chief O'Brien wasn't out on the Defiant, he would have caught the extra drain Garak's search was taking out of the main computer core.

As he slowly patched the jacket up, he kept his eyes open for any new clues hidden in the thickly threaded fibers. His mind wandered between the Nausicaan, the Klingon, and, surprisingly, the Pony. The Klingon was probably the easiest to figure out. With the level of sophistication of his Human disguise, he had to be working for the High Council and for them to send out such an agent meant that this was a fairly high-importance mission.

_The Klingons are still making pushes towards Cardassia. They believe the Dominion is in control and will stop at nothing to break the Cardassian people. What would be important enough for them to risk an agent on Deep Space Nine?_

The Nausicaan was problematic though. Their government was practically nonexistent. Most of their people worked as bodyguards, bouncers, and mercenaries.

_This jacket is well made. Probably mass produced. Definitely made for someone who would be getting into a lot of nasty situations. Mercenaries? No, any that would have the money for this would put something to represent themselves on the uniform. Unless he stole it or purchased it himself? Possible. My "gut", as the Doctor would put it, tells me that this is bigger than that though._

Miss Rarity had nothing to do with the strange situation that fell into Garak's lap, and yet his curiosity about her and her people still lingered in his mind.

_The Federation has very little information about them and yet they are free to travel among Federation worlds. Rarity is obviously of the Unicorn branch of the species but there is no data about what that means beyond the cosmetic differences. She manipulated objects without physical contact. Telekinesis? Rare but not unheard of. Technology? No visible devices of any kind. The horn seemed to glow. Perhaps that is the key. She wasn't wearing any clothing to hide anything under. Normal for her species? Why do Ponies need tailors if they don't wear clothes?_

_Stay on topic. Ponies are irrelevant. Focus on the real problem. Lives could be at stake_

_The computer should be done with the plotting of where the Nausicaan probably came from soon. Maybe I will finally get a solid answer. I need to not let my mind wander._

_How does she sew without hands?_

_Damn!_

Suddenly Garak began to feel how late it was getting. His work on the jacket was progressing but not fast enough. There were still two large, almost identical, holes on the shoulders that would take the rest of the night to properly patch.

Yawning, he was about to start preparing the material he needed when the computer gave a chime signaling that it had finished its' task. Excited by the prospect of having firm data, he rushed to his console.

Garak had asked for a list of places the Nausicaan could have visited that fit the timeframe of the injuries he had sustained. Since the Klingon/Cardassian front had moved away from the station, there weren't too many potential sites.

Scanning the list and stretching his tired muscles, he noticed one name that stood out. A recently destroyed Cardassian settlement, Tolma II. As a small settlement near the Demilitarized Zone, Tolma II was mostly ignored by much of the quadrant and even by Cardassia, but it was also home to a small Obsidian Order listening post.

_The attack was devastating and quick enough that they may not have had a chance to purge their records. If anything was salvaged from that outpost, it could reveal Cardassian fleet movements and orders for that sector._

Progress at last! The thrill he got from the discovery was dimmed only by the yawn that escaped from him. As he stretched again, he noticed his neck still hurt from the Klingon's brief assault. Moving back to finish the work on the jacket, he sat back in his chair and was just getting himself motivated to get the job done when he realized his neck was in a really good spot. He had it angled just right so that he didn't feel the bruise that was left behind.

_Surely I can rest my neck for a bit here. Now that I know what the stakes are, I can prepare for tomorrow appropriately. Time to plan._

_*_Yawn*

_I forgot that I have to plan around Rarity being there in the morning. Maybe I can ask about her people. I wonder if they all have the same gems on their flanks._

_*Yawn*_

_Need to plan. Have to stay focu..._


	5. Chapter 5

"The time is 0600."

When the station's computer chimed, Garak sat straight up in his chair. Unfortunately he had forgotten about the bruise left on his neck and quickly sank back into it. He was certainly awake now.

Thinking quickly, he cleaned himself up, grabbed the jacket and headed to the Promenade to open his shop. Having fallen asleep over his work, he had no plan for the events that threatened to collide today. That was fine, improvising always brought out his best work.

As he arrived at his destination, he noticed someone right across from the store. A Ferengi, one of Quark's employees, was hovering outside a display and trying very hard to look nonchalant. This may be easier than Garak had originally assumed. A plan was quickly forming in his mind. There were a few small gaps but nothing he couldn't make up as events unfolded.

Unlocking the store, he had the strangest feeling he was forgetting something. Something that seemed so terribly important the night before...

"Yoohoo, Mister Garak!"

There it was.

He turned to find Rarity, dressed in a fancy maroon cape, with a jumja stick floating in front of her. His brain was now racing to revise his already hastily made plans.

"Good morning Miss Rarity. Are you enjoying the local cuisine?"

"Oh yes! This jumja is so delectably sweet. I must bring some of this back to Ponyville to share with my friends. Are you about to open up for the day? Opal and I are ready to get some work done. Opal?"

Rarity looked to her sides to try to find her feline companion. When she looked behind her, she found Opal across the walkway staring at the Ferengi. Even from the distance she could hear Opal and the Ferengi taking turns hissing at each other.

"Opalescence stop being so rude! You are embarrassing me."

Upon being chastised, Opal threw her chin up and trotted over to Rarity.

"Good girl Opal. I'm sorry about her Mister Garak."

"That's quite alright my dear, most people have a similar reaction to the Ferengi."

They entered the store and each began preparing for the day's business in their own way. Rarity began laying out the fabric she was going to use for the Bajoran festival attire. Garak checked his console to make sure certain special programs he had were running before turning his attention to setting up his store to welcome customers.

There was no telling when the Nausicaan would show up to claim his jacket, and the Klingon was sure to find out about the visit thanks to the Ferengi watching the store. If he could finish the jacket up, his plan may work even with Rarity in the mix. All he needed was to patch the shoulders with the material...that he left in his quarters.

He could go back to get it, but that would leave Rarity at risk if the Nausicaan or Klingon show up while he was out. His best option would be to hope for spare material in the shop. Garak frantically began to search through the bolts in his storage and his scrap to find something that would be appropriate. The anxious searching did not go unnoticed by Rarity.

"Is something the matter?"

"I have, rather foolishly, left some important material behind in my quarters and I hope to find something to replace it with."

"Hmm, better let me have a look."

Before Garak could say anything else, the jacket flew off the table to the area Rarity was working in. As she gave it an appraising eye, it slowly turned while it floated in front of her.

"Hmmm. Maybe. No. How about...? Yes! I have an idea!"

The jacket made a movement back over to the table near Garak, but now there were two large, pale blue gemstones, complete with settings, with it.

"Try using these to cover the holes. They would look fabulous and provide some wonderful color to the palette. Call it a gift to thank you for your hospitality."

"How very...generous of you. Thank you."

Garak was not sure that gemstones would be something that belonged on a jacket like this, but to humor himself and Rarity, he placed them over the holes on the shoulders to see how they looked. To his surprise, it didn't look bad.

In fact, the gems were the right size, fulfilled the need for protection, and made the jacket look more intimidating from most angles. A perfect solution to a problem that could have made his whole morning much more difficult. Garak was impressed at how quickly she made such an astute choice.

"Well, I need to get these in place quickly. There's no telling when business will start to pick up."

Garak and Rarity quickly put their focus back on their own projects but Garak was rather glad to have someone to talk to in the shop. A little conversation might help the work go by faster.

"Tell me Miss Rarity, how did you meet the good doctor?"

"Oh that was a few years back. I had been traveling through the Federation, trying to get a feel for some of the latest fashions out there, and one of my last stops happened to be Earth. I took a tour of some of the major fashion spots, tried the cuisine, and tried to show off some my own designs. At one point I was in San Francisco and visited Starfleet Academy. I wanted to try to talk to some of the Admirals about the horrid uniforms I saw on some of the officers there."

"The jumpsuit look never really struck me as wise choice either."

"Indeed. I managed to pull a few strings and arranged lunch with an Admiral from Starfleet Medical and some of his top students. Julian was, of course, a leader in his class, and a favorite of the Admiral's. After dinner, he tried to ask me out on a date. I turned him down then, but he was so adorably persistent that eventually I said yes."

"That certainly does sound like Doctor Bashir."

"Then when we were finally on the date we both realized that while we had great conversations, we had no chemistry. Since then, Julian and I have kept in touch and traded stories about our travels. He speaks very highly of you in his letters."

"I'm flattered to be of note, given all of the interesting things he has been a part of out here. Ah here we are."

He had finally finished the jacket. Now all he needed to do was get the Nausicaan to join him in the tiny office in the back to "discuss payment". He would have a very small window of opportunity to get at the hidden pocket the Nausicaan had most likely stashed his prize in but it should be enough to claim it and get him out of the store before the Klingon had a chance to arrive.

A small chirp came from his terminal. The Klingon wasn't the only one who could get a lookout. It had begun. Time for Garak to see just how well he could bluff members of two of the most quick tempered and vicious races in the quadrant.

* * *

Far from Deep Space Nine

The visitor had turned things around so quickly for her. Now she felt confidence and ambition greater than she had ever known. She could never be content with a kingdom anymore. The stars were filled with the promise of new life for her to dominate. A great war was coming and her legions would soon participate in the downfall of the Federation.


	6. Chapter 6

The stage was set. Well, as much as Garak could throw it together.

The Nausicaan had moved quickly. Garak had only a few moments before he saw the large being darken the doorway. He put on his best disarming smile and moved to greet the Nausicaan.

"Welcome back! I trust you have had a nice stay on our humble station?"

The Nausicaan was, unfortunately, not terribly receptive to Garak's friendly demeanor and brushed past him towards the work area.

"I'm here for the jacket, nothing more."

Garak followed him over and showed off the freshly re-made jacket.

"But of course. As you can see, there are some improvements I had to make to the shoulder area due to the complexity of the material but I think it should give your outfit more protection and have it look more powerful."

"It's different. I don't like different."

"I am very sorry if it was not what you were hoping for. Perhaps we could step into my office for a moment and discuss what you would like to have corrected?"

"I DON'T LIKE DIFFERENT!"

The Nausicaan was furious. Garak had to think quickly. Time for a change of plans. The angered customer hit a basket of fabric onto the floor. Damn, need to change plans again. He was running out of time for this to work.

"I'm sure we can come to an peaceful solution here and..."

His words were drowned out by the Nausicaan pulling up one of the work tables and flipping it. This was not working quite as well as he thought. The Nausicaan was pulling a phaser pistol from his belt when Garak noticed that the disgruntled man's ear was starting to glow blue.

Suddenly, Garak's assailant swiveled as if slapped by an invisible hand. The pull was so unexpected that the Nausicaan fumbled with the phaser and dropped it. Dragged by its' ear, the Nausicaan found itself face to face with an angry unicorn.

"Now see here you...you... ruffian! I understand that you may not appreciate the fabulosity that has been added to your jacket but that does not give you the right to act like a brute and trash this nice man's shop."

Garak heard two chirps on his com system. The Klingon was on his way. Garak looked at the fallen phaser and finally knew what needed to be done. He would need to interrupt Rarity soon but he could wait another few seconds. She was handling things quite well.

"You should apologize to Mister Garak and help him pick up the things you threw around, don't you look away, I'm not done with you yet, and then you can discuss, in a civilized manner, how you would like your jacket altered. Am. I. Clear?"

The Nausicaan had never been in this kind of situation before. He was so stunned that all he could manage was a slight nod. Garak saw his opportunity.

"Thank you Miss Rarity for your assistance. I believe the gentleman and I can come to a proper agreement now. Especially since his friend from the Klingon Empire is going to be walking through that door any minute."

The Nausicaan instantly forgot about the dressing down he had received from Rarity and began to look for a way to leave. Garak was ready to assist him.

"I'm afraid that if you leave now you will be spotted but I can deal with him for you if you could hide in one of my changing areas. I will let you know when it is safe to leave"

Rarity was confused by what was happening but the Nausicaan was too afraid to question why Garak was suddenly helping him and moved into a changing room. Rarity moved out of the way to try to get a handle on the turn of events.

"Mister Garak what in Celestia's name is going on?"

Garak was moving back to the work table the Nausicaan had knocked over.

"I will be happy to explain this to you in a moment my dear, but for right now you may want to head out of the shop for a couple of minutes while I work some things out with my associates."

"Are you in some kind of trouble or...eeep!"

In moving away from the action, Rarity had moved towards the entrance with her back to the doorway. The Klingon had just entered and took the opportunity to come up behind Rarity and threaten her with a disruptor.

"It looks like you have had an eventful morning, tailor. Maybe I can take a problem off of your hands. Give me the Nausicaan and you and your friend can carry on your lives in peace."

Garak stared down the Klingon for a few seconds before putting the salesman smile back onto his face. Rarity was not quite as confident as Garak looked though, and made it known.

"Um, Mister Garak, could you please do something about the man holding a weapon to my mane?"

"Do not worry Miss Rarity, I believe I can come to an arrangement with the gentleman behind you."

The Klingon was not one for small talk.

"You will tell me what I want to know or you both die and I will find the Nausicaan myself!"

Garak put his hands down on the table carefully and very gently replied.

"If you are going to kill us with that weapon, it would set off quite a few alarms. I doubt you would accomplish your goals that way."

The Klingon pondered what Garak had just said. He began to put away his disruptor and pulled out his knife.

"While you may be correct, you need to be taught that I don't like to be delayed."

He raised the knife to dramatically stab the poor unicorn but as the knife was at its peak, Garak quickly pulled the Nausicaan's phaser out and fired. The Klingon was hit right in the chest and suddenly staggered and fell.

Rarity was still trying to put together what had just occurred when Garak shook her from her daze.

"Are you alright?"

As he asked, the Nausicaan started peeking out of the dressing area. Garak pointed the phaser at him.

"Did I say you could come out yet?"

The Nausicaan sheepishly went back. Rarity was finally processing what was going on around her and she had some questions.

"What is going on? Is that man dead? Why did he want to kill me? Did he cut my mane? TELL ME ABOUT MY MANE!"

"Miss Rarity, I will be happy to answer your questions but I will skip the first one for just a moment. That man is just stunned, he may look human but he is a Klingon spy, and your mane looks fantastic as always."

Rarity was beginning to calm down but wasn't sure how much she should trust Garak at this point. Garak could see the concern on her face and felt guilty about having her shoved in this middle of this ordeal. Maybe telling her his reasoning might help.

"I am deeply sorry that you were involved in this situation. I had hoped to spare you the danger of being here when things got out of hand. The truth of the matter is that many of my people's lives may be at stake right now if the information that the Nausicaan has gets to the wrong people. The Klingon certainly believed that it was worth our lives. I'm afraid that I may need to ask for your help in this situation before everything is said and done though. You are free to decline of course but as a token of my trust, I will show you the information to prove the value of what I am doing if you assist me."

This was not an easy decision for Rarity. While Garak had not told her of the danger of being in the shop, she had the impression that even he did not suspect the level of risk that would be involved. He seemed to be such a nice man but behind his eyes was the soul of someone who was far more than a simple tailor.


	7. Chapter 7

A small knock on the door of the dressing room that the Nausicaan was hiding in was followed by Garak's voice.

"It is safe to come out now."

The Nausicaan cautiously walked into the main area. He was surprised to find a human male unconscious on the floor. Rarity was cleaning up some of the area where clothing had been knocked over earlier. Garak came up behind him and put a reassuring arm on his back.

"It may be time for you to go my friend. This man here is a Klingon agent. I stopped him before he could cause a mess but he will only be out for so long. Your jacket is on the table there. Go ahead and take it, no charge. I would just like this fight taken outside of my shop."

The Nausicaan was still shocked by the speed at which things were happening and allowed Garak to usher him towards the exit. He also didn't notice the stitching around the hidden pocket on his armor coming undone nor the data crystal gently lifted from it.

"He should be out for another few minutes but that should be plenty for you to get a good head start."

Garak tossed the jacket into the Nausicaan's arms and then gave him a bit of a push out the door. Once Garak was sure that the Nausicaan was gone he went back into the store. Rarity had the data crystal and floated it back into Garak's office. The Klingon began to stir soon after. Garak helped bring him to his feet.

"I apologize for having to stun you but you were making an attempt on my friend's life. In the chaos of your arrival, your target managed to slip out. I hold no ill will towards you but I would appreciate it if you took your chase elsewhere."

The Klingon was still groggy but understood everything Garak had said. He growled at the tailor and then hobbled out the door to renew his chase. The Ferengi could tell him where the target went. He moved so quickly that the door being locked behind him escaped his notice.

Inside the shop, Garak and Rarity hovered around the computer in the office, eagerly waiting to see what was worth the trouble they put up with. There was one thing that Rarity was still curious about.

"Shouldn't security be here by now since you fired that weapon?"

"I actually disabled the security sensors in the store after I had obtained the phaser. It's just a little program I had on stand-by. This terminal here is one of the most secure on the station thanks to my meddling."

Garak had the computer read the crystal and the screen lit up with maps and communiqués from the Obsidian Order's files. One file in particular caught Garak's eye. The Order had been keeping very close tabs on some of the Cardassian elite in that sector. When the Klingons attacked, they had been evacuated with the other citizens. This had the locations of where they ended up and what they took with them.

For the Klingons, this information would have let them decapitate Cardassian leadership in the outer colonies in just a few quick strikes. To them, Cardassia had been infiltrated by the Dominion and they would stop their influence from spreading at any cost.

If the Nausicaan had sold this data, the treasures that these men had gathered would give someone ample motive to pillage the places they were hiding.

Normally that would not have bothered Garak that much but these men were hiding among the other refugees from the Klingon attacks. The civilian casualties from any assault would be massive. Rarity seemed to understand some of the significance the data held and Garak was happy to inform her of the number of lives their actions may have saved.

"Mister Garak, I am beginning to see why Julian finds you so interesting."

"My dear, I don't know what you mean. I am just a humble man trying to work in a humble profession. Speaking of which, I believe that you have some Bajoran festival robes that need some stitch work. Please allow me to assist you to make up for taking so much of your time. If you are willing, we could even have breakfast in the morning. My treat."

"A very generous offer Mister Garak. How could I refuse?"


	8. Chapter 8

"...and then she said, 'Oatmeal, are you crazy?'"

Laughter rang out in the dining area, causing passing diners to take a glance at the odd pair of tailors enjoying breakfast together.

"Miss Rarity, you have some of the most interesting friends. I may have to make a stop in Equestria if I am ever in that part of the Quadrant."

"You certainly should, though I have to warn you, we have only recently started building accommodations for ponies, I mean people, of your size."

"Well that is understandable. Since Equestria isn't officially part of the Federation or Klingon Empire, despite being rather near the border of both, the current political climate doesn't exactly help the tourism market."

"Sadly true. By the way, thanks again for your help with the Bajoran festival attire. It looks simply marvelous. The idea to us Spican flame gems for additional flair was exquisite."

"I was happy to help though you may not want to mention my involvement in their preparation. There are still some Bajoran ministers that would not be pleased that a Cardassian fixed the trim on their robes."

As Rarity was about to comfort her newest friend, a series of noises drew the attention of them both. They saw a group of ragged Starfleet personnel coming from the docking area. The Defiant had returned.

Watching the condition of the crew as they moved through the Promenade, Garak and Rarity began to worry. That faded as soon as they saw Quark and a Karemma come out laughing and directing people to his bar to celebrate. Dax and Bashir appeared a moment later and seemed to be in good spirits. The doctor caught a glimpse of Garak and Rarity and excused himself from Dax's company.

"I'm glad to see that you found someone to replace me at breakfast Garak. I trust you two had a nice, quiet time doing tailoring things and gossiping the day away."

Rarity exchanged a quick glance with Garak before responding.

"Oh we have had a delightful time here. Mister Garak was telling me all about your holodeck adventures and then we bonded over the fact that you have neglected to tell the two of us some very important information, like the fact that your letters never mentioned that my adorable Worfy had joined you on this station. Oh, he is quite a Klingon. When he visited Equestria, he to fight to keep everypony's hooves off him."

Doctor Bashir was a bit confused by the concept of people fawning over Worf.

"Worf? Really? He's just so gruff and serious."

"Some women like gruff and serious. Besides, those forehead ridges..."

"You may be the only woman I know who likes that. I will have to catch up with both of you a bit later, Dax is waiting for me in Quark's."

Bashir rushed off toward the bar and Rarity and Garak settled back into their meal. Rarity noticed an interesting smirk on her companion's face.

"What's so funny?"

"Oh it's not anything important. I just think the dear doctor may be in for a bit of a shock when he finds out who else shares your opinion of our resident Klingon."

Rarity took a sip of her tea.

"You know that no pony believes that you are just a tailor."

"Whether or not people believe what I tell them is irrelevant. What matters is what they infer from any evidence of my life that I may leave them. You would be surprised at how many people can miss hints that are right in front of them."

"That could be a good thing given that somepony skilled in conversation could plant false hints wherever they wanted to."

"I suppose you are correct. Someone like that could even change the entire direction of a conversation in one smooth move to something like the horrible way the Starfleet uniform gets ruffled when someone sits down."

Rarity smiled and gleefully took the bait.

"I wish you could have seen the look on the face of that Admiral when I mocked the constant tucking that Starfleet Officers had to do when they stood up. It was a strange mixture of agreement and shame. I suggested a much more simplified and comfortable uniform. Not only would it do away with the overstated nature of the colors, it would not be based on a jumpsuit. Pants, jacket, and undershirt would be appropriately sized. He said no to the diamond epaulets but he loved the rest of the design."

"It sounds like they took to some of your ideas not too long after that."

"They mostly used my ideas but I had hoped they would have used the nice white dress uniforms I made for them. Maybe they are still working on them somewhere."

"What we do is truly an underappreciated art."

Garak raised his cup of tea.

"To the humble tailor."

Rarity raised her own cup.

"We are just plain and simple folk, are we not?"

*Clink*

* * *

Far from Deep Space Nine

The army was forming once more. A feast awaited her people. So much hope, happiness, and love out there to be devoured. Her new King had opened up so many new possibilities for her. She had never known that there were others like her out there. Though they were very different, at their heart they were both misunderstood outcasts. Both hated and feared. Both Changelings.

* * *

**Author's Note: Thank you for taking the time to check out my story! I have more planned in the same universe that I want to work on. Next up is a short Voyager story followed by a "first contact" story between the Federation and Equestria.**


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